A Compilation of Goodbyes
by Deuceposter
Summary: Small compilation of free-writes spawned from the many what-if's of the Support Log of Awakening.
1. Chapter 1

**A Compilation of Goodbyes.**

"Chrom! It's always about Chrom! What about _us_ , mother!?"

Cordelia stood in quietly in the hallway, stopped dead in her tracks by a seething raven haired girl pulled into tight pigtails. This firebrand of a girl barely rose to her meet her neckline, and yet she stood with such forced bravado that Cordelia had to acknowledge her.

Behind this brazen girl hid a younger face draped beneath the hood of a robe, locks of cherry red gently quivering from beneath the shroud as she clung to the raven-haired girl's arm. For once, in front of these two girls, the mighty Cordelia was at a loss for words.

"My duty-"

"It's always about _your_ duty!" The raven-haired spitfire snarled before Cordelia could even begin to defend herself. By Naga's grace... fighting a brigand unarmed and blindfolded would have been easier than this very moment.

"Sometimes I even wonder if you love Chrom more than father…"

"Mother…" the younger meekly squeaked, awaiting Cordelia's response.

She had heard these accusations before. From the nobles in court, from the other pegasus knights, from servant hearsay in the castle… but coming from her own daughter- the very _affirmation_ of her love for Robin...

This would not stand.

Young Morgan stood cowering behind her sister Severa, knuckles white from gripping onto her sister's sleeve while tears battered at the dam walls. She was no doubt roped into Severa's "master plan to get mother to confess" as an extra emotional punch. Severa herself was half on the verge of crying as well, despite the mask of anger she had forced onto her youthful features. Their mother could always see right through them, but if this is what Severa _needed_ , then so be it.

"Let me finish, my _daughter_." Cordelia had mustered every ounce of matronly strength into her voice, a tone that Severa had never heard before. The brazen girl was taken aback, and poor little Morgan could not decide whether to be terrified or crying.

"'Tis true." Cordelia closed her eyes, letting out a long drawn out sigh. Before her daughters had time to react she continued on with the confession, "I loved Chrom in that way that all young, naive women love a great and noble man."

Severa's confusion at the analogy was not surprising, the adolescent mind was still learning the works of the world beyond their own. The dams of Morgan's tears had already burst, as if Cordelia had truly proclaimed that she loved someone else. Yet as much as she wished to comfort her youngest, she must settle this matter with Severa.

"Your father…"

She contemplated that day, when Robin had opened her eyes. When she began to see her life in a new light. Even in those dark days...

"Your father however… He is a man that I love with my mind and my heart. He is not an idea… an image that I looked up upon. He is but a man. A selfless, stubborn, airhead of a man, but he is no ideal- no image that I put on a pedestal to worship."

Cordelia smiled, nostalgia of both the good and the bad dancing within her memories. Her daughters stood silent as she contemplated, trying to find words to weave into their tale, yet none simple enough for such young minds to comprehend.

"We grew together as comrades in arms- as friends- and he helped me realize a great many things about myself… One of those things was how complete we feel with one another."

Cordelia stooped down, sweeping both of her beloved daughters into her arms.

"Much like now, with you girls. I understand that my duty to another man- our _lord_ \- takes me away from you two, and my heart aches when we are parted, for you two make me as complete a woman as your father does."

She held them close, clutching them to her breast like the day they were born. Their soft locks tickled her cheeks as she rested her chin in the perfectly shaped crook between the girls. The deep raven black of their father's and cherry red of Cordelia's own made a wondrous juxtaposition; the simplest portrait of her and Robin's unity.

"Chrom is my honor, but you girls and your father…" She buried her face in that comfortable nook between their heads, close enough to whisper to their ears. "You are my heart and my soul."

Cordelia could feel the dampness upon her breast and the heaving upon their shoulders, and could do naught but hold them tighter.

"Now, my _beautiful_ miracles," she planted two kisses upon the tops of their heads in hopes that the emotion within would banish this vile curse of doubt, "I was on the way to tell you that your father and I were going to a small dinner with _Lord_ Chrom and his wife, and the young _lady_ Lucina was asking if you two would be coming."

"Cousin Luci!?" Morgan instantly perked up, eyes twinkling with exuberance before the tears had dried from her cheeks. She was her father's daughter through and through.

"Uncle and Auntie…" Severa murmured quietly to herself. For the longest time, in front of Cordelia it had always been "Lord Chrom" and "Lady Sumia". Very formal, very dry, despite the closeness of their families. It warmed her heart to hear Severa call Chrom and Sumia like she had when she was a babe.

"Come now, my daughters. Let us get ready for the dinner with your father and the Exalt's family."

"Yes mother!" Morgan had taken off without even waiting for the sister that she always clung to, a bundle of giggles and carefree smiles once again. Her sister, however, hovered still before the greatest of pegasus knights.

"Cynthia will want to play Justice Alliance though, mother." Severa huffed, crossing her arms and trying her best to avert her face so that the evidence of her crying would not be so plain to see. Cordelia knew what Severa meant, despite the later believing that her mother did not care.

"Well then, my young lady." Cordelia stood up straight and proper for her daughter, exemplifying the posture of a lady of the court of Ylisse. "We will have to dress you most beautifully, so that your cousin does not mistake you the villain again." She ran a hand through her daughter's silken pigtails, expertly free the knots with deft fingers. "And, my love, if she still wishes to play, simply tell her that you wish to be on her side this time. After all, you are family, and may well be comrades-in-arms in the future, Naga forbid."

"Leave the rivalry for the training grounds, there is no need for it in court with our esteemed loved ones." Cordelia added the last point with a gentle press of her finger to her daughter's nose, well aware that that the "rivalry" was not necessarily all of little Cynthia's doing.

"Yes mother." The faintest of smiles as Severa spun on her heel with the natural grace she inherited from her mother. Timidly the girl looked back over her shoulder.

"Mother I'm… sorry-"

"It is alright, my Severa."

Before the fiery girl could take off down the hall after her sibling, a memory flashed to the fore of Cordelia's mind. It was the briefest melancholic visions from years past, of a familiar comrade-in-arms that she could barely remember the face of… but still…

As swift as a lightning bolt Cordelia caught her daughter's hand.

"Mother?"

Within Severa's soft palm, Cordelia placed her signet ring. Gently she closed her daughter's hand over it, clasping those innocent hands between her own calloused and war-torn.

"I will always love you, my daughter. No matter where I am or what happens between us, I swear this to you. Let my ring be a reminder of this."

Her daughter's eyes were wide in awe, the faintest dew welling up in the already reddened and puffy corners.

"Now get along… knowing your younger sister she is already dressed and fussing with her hair. She'll no doubt need your help." Cordelia's smile was honest and warm, just like it had always been to Severa, no matter what trouble the young girl got herself into.

"I love you too… Mother."


	2. Chapter 2

"We'll always be together, Mo'."

Severa lied.

Everything life had taught her up to this moment was _that_ fleeting idea was never further from the truth. Even if every star aligned, every fate defied, and reality itself twisted for the benefit of the sisters, the great equalizer came for everyone in the end... and then, one way or another, one of the pair would be left alone forever without their other half. Even still, it was her duty as an older sister to ensure the safety and happiness of her younger. Severa looked down into the ever exuberant eyes of Morgan- those eyes that had never lost their luster since she was babe- and faltered.

Morgan could always feel when something was off with her big sister, and gently she took Severa's hand, the matching set of their parent's signet rings gently tapping together. What little it did to ease Severa's nerves, it was better than standing in this dour silence.

"Always together, Sev!"

Morgan wished it the truth, yet even she was not as naive as she had once been. She still spoke with a smile that could lighten the most dark of hearts, and with an enthusiasm that would not betray the anxiety she felt coursing through her mind, for it was her duty as a younger sibling to make sure her older sister never swayed in her purpose.

As the pair stood in the yawning maw of that great otherworldly gate, the oppressive darkness of the night was washed away by the radiant spectrum spilling forth from the great door. It beckoned them to ascend its grandiose steps, and who were they to refuse such a divine artifact. Yet each step stabbed yet more daggers of anxiety and fear into their hearts 'til the two girls stood before that great swirling vortex of the unknown, practically embracing one another before its vastness.

"J-just… just hold onto my hand." Severa gripped her younger sister even tighter as the magic of the gate nipped at her skin, like a cat eager for its next meal. "We will be fine as long as you hold onto me."

"Got it!" Morgan had no qualms about it. Ever since she was able to walk, she had held onto her sister. First it was out of fear- the unknown, the great expanse of the world around her that overwhelmed and oppressed. Yet as she grew older, she clung to her sister still. Even as her mind came to make sense of everything around in a logical and analytical manner, Morgan could never shake the feeling of a looming loneliness and emptiness that seemed always seemed to creep ever closer with each passing day. It was something her logical mind could not make sense of- and as her world began to spiral into darkness, Severa still stood. Even as all others fell, her sister, through sheer force of will, persevered.

But this was different. After everything the two had seen- had _suffered_ …

 _This_ was something that Morgan knew in the deepest recesses of her being, would not go the way they hoped.

How she wanted to say she was scared- how she wanted to collapse on that very step and cry for her mother and father, her aunts and uncles, her friends... everyone she had grown up loving and being loved by. How she wanted to curse the fate that had been spun, rage and unleash that virulent hate and ugliness she held within for so long.

Looking now at her sister, posture of a seasoned warrior in a youth who never experienced innocence, face bereft of emotion where the joys of adolescence should have lit a bright smile- a false strength brought on by necessity… Morgan could not back away from their shared conviction now.

Severa had kept them alive, and Morgan kept them sane. What would happen to her dear sister if Morgan gave up hope? Who was she to question any sliver of light still housed in Severa's already rent heart? No- it was going to be Morgan's darkness to bear for the sake of her beloved sister. She held onto Severa's sleeve exactly like how she did when walking the long halls of the Ylissian court as her sister crossed the threshold.

Morgan stumbled in after her.

The magics tore at them.

Tumbling, spun in a mighty vortex of cosmic power, Morgan shut her eyes so tight that, at least to her perception, the blinding scintillation of lights went dark. She wanted to scream, to let a guttural roar from the seat of her belly so loud that her sister would be able to hear her of the maelstrom around them.

And yet-

A whisper, so soothing and calm, washed over her very soul.

If you could be reborn, child-

What would you wish?

A price was demanded. A deal proposed. Equity demanded for the scale.

How long had she simply followed her sister? How long had she held Severa back. 'tis true that she never wished to harm her sister ever again… but perhaps-

-perhaps if Severa could see them again… the pain would be temporary. Maybe even _she_ would find herself there eventually...

"I love you, sis." Morgan whispered as Severa's sleeve slipped from her fingers.


	3. Chapter 3

Robin sat in a meditative silence, treatises regarding the current diplomatic relations of Ylisse spread across his grand oaken desk. On the battlefield he would know the correct actions, the tactical acumen of his experience allowing him to know exactly where and when to position, posture, feint, and strike.

But in the diplomatic field…

...Well, he was glad he was a fast learner.

The last war… the second war of the dragon as the public was beginning to call it, ended with a victory for "good". Yet even with the Fell Dragon… well, _felled_ , the Grimleal suppressed- if not outright banished, and Valm freed from Walhart's despot reign, everything was still not right with the world. Succession of Plegia was in chaos, the kingdoms of Valm were reestablishing their independence at the expense of one-another, Ferox was depleted in both manpower and food, not to mention the coffers of Ylisse's previously recovering economy running dangerously low once again, even with many of their soldiers waving off their payments for the sake of a greater good. The only thing keeping the continent afloat was the Exalt's faith in peace and Ylisse's vast harvests.

Chrom, bless his heart and soul, but the man had barely a lick of understanding of what runs his country. He was trying his best- he had been thrust into the position with nary any training or formalities, and Robin hoped he would take up more of his duties sooner rather than later. Chrom needed to make decisions now as their liege, not just rely on those around him for his best course- even if it was the advice of his best friend.

Robin rubbed the weariness from his eyes, taking another strained look at the document in front of him. The report was recent… he thought. Dates were becoming a blur, and he started measuring the time spent in the office by candlesticks burned rather than moons passed. The wicked weave of diplomacy certainly had him trapped this time.

Plegia line of succession was in tatters, Gangrel leaving no heir or heir-inherent. To compound the situation, most nobles had ties to the Grimleal- and one of the only demands placed on Plegia after surrender was that _no_ Grimleal ever take power again. Those that could be proven to have disassociated with the previous ruling cult wound up contended with all manner of claims. It wasn't until one particular nobleman of no special name had taken up the crown did some ensemble of normalcy return. He wasn't… _installed_ by the Shepherds... but Tharja and Henry had helped his claim for the crown, and with the couple forming part of his advisory council, it ensured that a certain level of trust could be established between the Plegian and Ylissian courts. Robin could, at the very least, count on Tharja to keep him up to date with what goings on, and to remain loyal to the Shepherd's ideals of peace between the nations should their court start to waver in its commitments.

A reverie washed over him, as they were oft to do now that the turmoil had lapsed into an uneasy- but calm- tension. It was those days of the war that he looked to with a honest fondness one would not associate with a cataclysmic war... yet it was a conflict bred this admiration and devotion for his comrades in arms. The seemingly ever expanding roster of the Shepherds had grown into a multicultural and national mixture of soldiers, nobles, peasants, divine beings, dragons- each one of them a hero in their own right. In the end of it all, they were much a family as one's own flesh and blood. As much as both he and Chrom wished for them to stay, the others had homelands in dire need of heroes and leaders.

And then there were the _others_ \- those who didn't belong in this time, those who fought the hardest and the longest, but where did they have to turn to? They deserved every reprieve allowed, yet if they were to return home… it would only be more fighting, more death and destruction.

Vibrant red locks fell before his eyes, tickling his nose with the faint scent of wild poppy. Instinctively Robin raised his shoulders slightly, giving room under his weary limbs for those familiar lithe-yet-strong arms to snake around him in a warm embrace.

"My love, you are still reading? Won't you come to bed?" Robin's wife placed her cheek upon the top of his head. Gently she squeezed him, a false ploy to lift him from his stool, though, if she put her mind to it, there was no doubt Cordelia's strength could easily pluck him from it.

Robin simply leaned back, now pillowing his head upon her modest breasts as he gazed blankly upwards, as he was so oft to do. The expression on her face after seeing his own was more than enough to let him know he looked exhausted as he felt.

"I will… soon." Though the thought of his beloved wife barely covered in the shroud she called a nightgown was tempting… but the work was urgent- a necessary evil that not many would care to face. He felt her skillful fingers dig into the knotted muscles of his shoulders, wound into dense balls by remaining hunched over for hours.

"We both know that is a lie, dear." She dug in deeper, causing him to wince in pleasurable pain. "Your predictions and fears are often all too real." She continued to work the knot out, planting a small kiss on the top of his head every time he seized or winced until finally, it was defeated.

"Everyone fought so hard for this peace." Robin picked up the latest treaty from Regna Ferox, holding it up to angle some light on it… something about securing additional food aid for the coming winter? He would have to get to it after writing the foreign policy directives for their ambassador in Plegia… not to mention the _mandatory_ letter to Tharja-

The paper slipped through his hands as Cordelia gracefully plucked it away during his moment of distraction. She gave it a quick once-over, nose held aloft as if to snob at the Feroxi herself.

"Hmm. Is this not what we have ambassadors and a vast surplus of eager bureaucrats for?" She tilted her head, letting her cherry locks spill over her ivory shoulders like a waterfall.

"Aye, but I should be drafting the logistics and supply of it-"

"My love." Gently she ran her hand along his cheek, "It is a task that one man should not do alone. You place too much weight upon your shoulders." Deftly Cordelia snatched up the quill from its well, and, in short order had begun the draft that Robin himself had been planning, right down to the exact trade routes and wagon companies he had thought up.

"Robin, dear. What was the surplus from last season's grain crop?"

"A-about twelve silos." He sat stunned as his wife proceeded to rifle through his paperwork, taking a seat upon the stool next to his own. She glanced over to him, that warm smile lighting her features even as the candles began to fade.

"You don't have to-"

"Nonsense!" Cordelia gently bopped his nose with a roll of parchment as if scolding a child. "Anything that keeps me away from you must be disposed of. Be it brigands, dragons, or paperwork!" She pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her cheek upon them. The most innocent and warm of smiles robbed the breath from his chest as she gazed back at him, "Besides that, we always work better as a team don't we?"

Robin draped his coat over her bare shoulders, surrendering to his wife's logic. As much as it was a shame to not admire her beauty in such a nightgown, they could ill afford the distraction. With a warm, gentle kiss that lingered far longer than normal, the couple set about ensuring the future of their realm.

* * *

"Mother? Father?" A voice faded in and out of muted haziness. Robin was slow to come to. It was a familiar jubilation… Morgan perhaps… he could sleep still, nothing urgent.

"Mother, put on some clothes before you catch a cold!"

"Gawds I hoped I'd never have to see mother in a nighty-"

Robin shot upright in a jolt of embarrassment-fueled adrenaline.

"GOOD MORNING GIRLS YOUR MOTHER AND I WERE JUST FINISHING THE-"

"We know, father." Severa sighed, pulling the drool stained document from Robin's now ink blotted face.

"You don't have to be embarrassed dad. You're going to have to make Sev eventually so you can get to me-"

"MORGAN-" the elder sibling lunged at her sister, who nimbly ducked towards their mother, the line Severa wouldn't cross.

"-SEVERA!" Morgan shouted back, giggling all the while at thwarting her scowling sister. Her cherry red head ducking and weaving around the room as a constant taunt to Severa.

"GIRLS!" Cordelia silenced both of them in one swift, powerful matronly note. "We do not yell in the castle, it is unbefitting you as ladies." Their mother stood, presence towering over all, the bags under her eyes apparent for all present. When the terrified daughters of Cordelia froze, she spoke once again in the gentle refined tone Robin was so accustomed to. "And you may also attract… unwarranted attentions which would be unwise given my current dress." Cordelia tightened the coat around herself further, a faint rose flushing her cheeks, "Severa, could you be a dear and get me a proper court dress? And Morgan, love, could you fetch your father and I a small breakfast, we were up quite late, you see."

"Aye aye, mother!" Morgan snapped a salute before taking off down the hall, exuberant smile that Robin deemed inappropriate for the current hour of the morning.

"Gladly-" Severa stormed out after her sister, and Robin swore he saw his daughter mirroring the same embarrassed glow as on Cordelia's face.

With the girls gone, Robin and Cordelia breathed the smaller sigh of relief.

"A handful... and they are mostly grown-" Robin joked with a sheepish rub of his neck. However, instead of the expected giggle at their present situation, Cordelia grew wistful, staring out the window at the rising sun.

"I wanted to tell you last night…" She began slow and unsure, nothing like her usual self. Robin had his suspicions, but…

Cordelia took a deep breath, distant gaze pulling into that familiar slight curving of her lips, that subtle smile he had grown so fond of over the years.

"I'm with child." The smile was small, loving… yet melancholy at the same time. Both of them knew what it meant. Robin collapsed into his seat, shock overcoming the excitement of good news.

Cordelia sat in his lap, gently taking his hands unto hers and placing them upon her belly. He gave her a loving embrace as a way to show his excitement without words exchanged.

"Should we tell the girls?"

"They will want to know."

"They might not feel like they are welcome when it happens."

"Severa and Morgan have been preparing for this day." Cordelia's voice was distant, sorrowful… Robin knew too, though he was loathe to admit it. Those two girls were _their_ children. Even if it was from another time- another world even- both he and Cordelia never once doubted that the pair was of his and Cordelia's flesh and blood.

"We- I-"

Cordelia hushed his dizzying array of thoughts and worries with a gentle running of her fingers through his raven locks.

"When you're ready, love. Only then. The girl's hearts are steeled… and not just from the anticipation of this moment."

Robin could only nod in agreement. Their girls had been through so much, and even then they had refused to tell Robin and Cordelia the full details of just what had happened in their world. Well- Morgan had at least a reasonable excuse…

Yet there had to be something they could do for the girls, something to let them know that they were always welcome here, even after this world's versions of them were born. Solidarity, acceptance, a home away from home.

He had just the idea, but no doubt Chrom and Tiki wouldn't like it...


	4. Chapter 4

It wasn't the first time the girls had stood silently before this monolith. Back then-

Back then things were different- clearly… but despite her knowing that, the gate caused her a great amount of distress. The scintillating rainbow radiating from its slightly ajar doors producing more dread than awe.

Over and over Severa checked her bag, her weapons, her armor, then her bag once again. She hated this waiting- this constant suspense. Though she would never admit it to anyone, she was jealous of her younger sister's blissful ignorance and carefree attitude. That part of Morgan certainly didn't change from their trip to this world.

Her stomach twisted into a knot thinking about when she had arrived, her younger sister no longer clinging to her arm like she had when they passed through the gateway. The panic... the fear of being alone- _truly_ alone- that was almost worse than death. At least death had a definitive end, a conclusion that you could be sure of. Yet she didn't want to simply die, not alone in another world after everything she and her friends had been through in their own. For Severa, death was never going to be a release, simply another failure- and that was a bitter draught she never wished to drink from again.

"If you keep opening it up and moving stuff, you're going to lose something." Morgan stuck her head into Severa's face to quizzically peer into Severa's overstuffed pack, blinding the elder sister with fiery locks consuming her vision. Gently Severa pushed Morgan out of the way, a false scowl masking the anxiety.

"I'm making sure we have enough provisions- there's no telling what world we might wind up in-"

"Well, we could always stay here." Morgan interrupted, that big dopey smile desperately trying to win over Severa. They had been through this before- twenty-seven other times in fact.

"No we can't." Severa responded swift and sharp, as it to smite this rebelliousness within the ranks. "We would only get in the way of them and their real family." She cast her eyes back down to the pack, hands rummaging for some item unknown even to her.

"But everyone else is thinking of staying." Again Morgan closed in slowly this time, like how she used to catch lizards with their dad. "Even Luci and Cynthia-"

"Then they're all idiots. What else can we accomplish here? Grima is dead, everyone's at peace, hurray! We're all saved! But how else are we going to get stronger if we're not fighting all the time?" Severa's knuckles went white as she internally railed at her own weakness during _that_ time, "What's a warrior without war? They're all going to get complacent and soft here. We'll never restore _our_ home if that happens."

She couldn't see Morgan's expression- and she didn't want to. All she could imagine was that pained look on her sister's face whenever she laid out the harsh truth, whenever she shattered her sister's warm delusions with cold facts.

"The worst thing would be getting caught up in the politics- the chance of our identities being revealed-" Severa back-peddled, as she always did when the guilt got to her. Her voice was sapped of the strength and resolve mustered. Instead, a meager unsureness wavering her voice as she continued to avert her eyes. She didn't know why, and no doubt Morgan clearly knew what she was doing, yet the impulse proved impossible to ignore. "a-and we'd be stuck in that paradox thing Laurent and Miriel were going on about."

"Oh pish-posh!" Morgan huffed, not buying into her sister's excuses. She grabbed Severa's arms from the abyss of her pack, desperately trying to pull her sister to her feet. However, Severa stayed firmly planted, the metaphorical weight of her thoughts becoming a frightening reality. With Severa not playing along, Morgan sighed before bounding back into her sister's personal space.

"We change our identities!" Matter-of-fact confidence pouring forth as she held her finger before Severa's nose. "We could ask Gerome about getting us some neat masks, borrow that hair dye stuff from Anna, move off to… I dunno, Rosanne or Cho'Sin and become wandering warriors for justice! Like a-"

"-don't say it."

"-justice coalition!"

The most exasperated groan echoed through the nearly empty island.

"We could fight bandits and help people… I don't know, farm and stuff? Farm and fight bears!" Morgan began whipping herself into an excitement. It was a perpetual cycle, like a dog chasing its tail if it wasn't stopped, and Severa _wanted_ it stopped.

" _Enough Morgan_." Severa's tone was matronly without the lashing harshness of her own annoyance overbearing it, like their mom had used when they were young. " This is for our own good, you'll see." Severa certainly was in no mood to provoke her sister more.

"You're not mom!" Morgan laughed at her own cleverness, yet those words… _Those words-_

They cut deep. Deeper than any she had felt on the battlefield, and it certainly had sliced through the last remaining strand of Severa's patience.

"No I'm _not_ mom, because _our_ mom is dead!" Severa had lept to her feet, towering over Morgan as she unleashed the pent up vitriol. "And _she_ isn't _our_ mother! She is just a stand-in. A look-alike. An image of who our mother _was_."

Morgan froze, face contorted with that unspeakable ugly mix of sadness and fear that Severa wished she could forget. Her young sister's arms went limp, shoulder slumped as she shied away from Severa's fury. Once again, Severa back-peddled as the guilt threatened to tear her heart from her chest.

"You don't remember, Mo'." She spoke in a soft whisper, trying to hold back a pressure building in her tear ducts, "What it was like on _that_ side- what we had to do over there."

"You don't remember when mom and dad left and never came back. When we had to flee the castle- flee Ylisse. The people we couldn't save… we ran away like cowards- weak cowards."

Morgan collapsed in silence, clutching her knees in a sad attempt to try and hide herself from Severa's ire.

"That's not my fault." Morgan's voice was devoid of her usual exuberance, an eclipse of Severa's sun. "If I had my memories, I could at least share that burden with you. Make it not hurt as much, you know?" That false, unsure smile curled itself onto Morgan's features, even as she stared at the dirt. Severa knew it was coming- an emotional blow that she should have been able to steel herself for. I mean- she had seen so much already… _done_ so much already that would make even the most hardened of hearts twist in discomfort.

And yet it was always just an act. A stupid, juvenile act. Gawds she hated the way her mind worked.

"I'm sorry, Mo'." Desperately Severa clung to her little sister, as if holding her would assure she would never drift away like she…

Like she had that night, in front of this same damnable rock.

"I'm so sorry Mo'." Severa kept repeating, each time becoming less comprehensible as tears began to choke her.

"It's alright Sev." Morgan's voice was clear, crisp- that same unearthly happiness that Severa had no right to question. "I'll never leave you alone with those memories."

"Remember what you told me, about how we would make new ones?" Morgan was now the one embracing her sister. "We'll just have to make so many new ones that the bad ones drown away in them!"

The first hiccup of a laugh confused Severa. At first she didn't realize that it had escaped her lungs- she figured it was Morgan's ubiquitous positivity trying to infect her. Only when she felt the quivering of her cheeks pulling into a smile did she realize that it already had.

"I just don't get you Morgan." Severa wiped the tears from her eyes, not even trying to hide befuddled emotions anymore. Her sister cocked her head to the side in that way that mother used to, the silken cherry strands swaying.

"What?"

"How can you be so… _happy_ all the time?"

Morgan's smile… it had always been the same- over exuberant to the point of sickening infectiousness, with varying degrees of excitability or pride mixed in for good variation.

But not this one. It was a quiet smile, small and meek like when she was a child. A disquieting, somber thing to the unsure Severa. It was a peaceful smile, at the very least she could be sure of that.

"I remember one thing dad told me- our… _real_ dad." Morgan spoke softly before turning a fierce determined look to her sister.

"That no matter what happens, to never give up and fall into despair, 'cuz if there is at least one person with hope there is the possibility for it to grow- like a flower… or a tree- I forgot the last part."

Severa stared blankly. It was clear as day that Morgan was lying, and yet, at the same time it felt like a heartfelt truth. She didn't want to doubt her sister anymore than she already had today- gawds that was enough for at _least_ the next year or two- so Severa settled for her infamous sigh and shake of the head.

"That… that sounds just corny enough to have been something dad said."

"I know, right?" Morgan's fool of a smile lit up her face, playfully tapping a knuckle against her temple. "But really- it's all in the past. It's stuff that made you into _you_ for sure, and you shouldn't forget it… but it shouldn't weigh you down either. Like… I feel- I feel like the old me would have thought the same thing."

"Certainly not as eloquent as dad," Severa sat back down next to her sister, taking a moment to work a knot or two from Morgan's unkempt hair, "but I get what you mean Mo', mom would have told us the same thing." Severa paused, her hands tickling Morgan's scalp to the point of her sister fidgeting away, but Severa stayed motionless, trying desperately to recall that familiarity she was feeling. "Now that I think about it, she got that from dad… she told us about how she met dad-"

"Right? I was thinking the same thing! I mean I don't remember _that-_ " Morgan practically bounced in her excitement that Severa was on the same page finally, "-but mother and father are the same here as they were there right? Mom wouldn't want you to be dragged down by all those painful thoughts and memories. You can't change them, so you need to move on! I'm sure if you asked _our_ _mother_ she would agree." Morgan fumbled on how exactly to separate the two entities that she considered her mom, but she shook the awkwardness from her head, sure of her answer. It was clear Morgan had accepted them, it was only Severa who hesitated.

It was Severa holding them back this time. She rapped a knuckle against her skull, trying to hammer in that feeling so that she wouldn't let it fade.

"Now who's the one hitting themselves?" Morgan giggled, gently taking Severa's hand.

"I-idiot! I wasn't _hitting_ myself- not like _you_ were doing!"

"I could get my tome out if it would help-"

" _Morgan_." Severa glared at her, stern as ever. The younger sister froze, unsure of Severa's tone. Uncertainty wracked her nerves in the silence between them before Severa cracked a wide, honest smile. "I love you, you dolt." Severa placed her hand on Morgan's head, ruffling her already frazzled hair to no effect.

The sharp image of movement on the horizon brought their bonding to a swift end. Instinctively Severa had swept up her blade and had taken a concealing position behind one of the crumbling boulders that dotted the sparse land of the island.

Morgan, however, simply stood, straining and squinting to identify the swiftly moving dot in the distance. Severa glared at her, as if to make her move to cover with the sheer power of ire alone, yet Morgan refused to budge.

"It's most likely mother and father." Morgan shrugged, sitting back down on the cold stone step of the gate. Embarrassed at her younger sister's now clear logic, Severa placed her time-worn blade back into its sheath, trying her best to brush off such an excessive reaction.

" _Finally_." She belted out, crossing her arms over her puffed-out chest. The well rehearsed frown drawn onto her face slowly melted away as she plopped herself down next to her sister. A somber silence permeated between the two sisters, the words that needed to be said already well spoken.

"Are you ready, Mo'?" Severa broke their silence, watching as the blurred object grew closer every passing second.

"As ever, Sev." She replied without hesitation.

"Let's get ready to say bye then." Severa took a deep breath. The outline of a pegasus grew more obvious as it closed in at an unthinkable speed. Only one rider had that level of confidence and skill to go _that_ swiftly.

Severa readied her metaphorical mask, letting the calm facade of disinterest work its way onto her features. No matter what happened, she would not falter from her path- for her own good, and for the good of her sister, she could- _would not_ \- waver. Even if- in the slimmest of fates _if-_ they begged for her and Morgan to stay, she must have the will to say no. Mother and father, mom and dad, family-

Morgan was her only family again. As it had been, as it always would be.


	5. Chapter 5

The cold light of the moon spilled into the office. The frosted glass distorting the beams into warped, ghostly strands framing the man who lay slumped forward upon the grandiose oaken desk. A single, undignified snort escaped the sleeping tactician, drool gradually staining the sleeve of his robes. The candlestick long melted into a heaped glob at the base of it's holder.

It was certainly _not_ a charming look for the Exalt's head advisor.

It was also, most certainly, _not_ a charming look for Cordelia, whom had promised to meet with him here for dinner before sundown.

She snuffed out her candle, placing it in a sconce by the doorway. As silent as a ghost, she swept in. A sudden guilt swelled up an into her throat as she saw the parchment and scrolls that stacked up and up, like a little fortress of work. His final act before losing consciousness was the same as what had kept her from him this evening- ensuring Chrom's rule was one of peace and reconstruction.

"He worked himself to exhaustion." Her whispered lament did not wake the tactician, "Who does that remind me of, I must wonder."

Another punctuating snort had surprised the pegasus knight, though she was very aware of this man's sleeping habits. He would certainly catch another cold if he continued in this manner week after week… though again, Cordelia blamed herself for that. She hadn't been the most attentive of wives, as of late. Careful as not to disturb him just yet, she slipped behind the simple, uncomfortable stool he _insisted_ upon using. With no coat to cloak her husband in, she settled for stooping low, scooping what she could of him into an embrace, pressing her warm cheek against his cold neck.

"Mghmmm." Robin mumbled, twitching slightly at the warmth, but still not stirring.

"Darling." Cordelia cooed, her warm breath drifting to his ear, "Darling, wake up."

She knew exactly how it would happen- it wasn't the first time this had happened certainly. As predicted, Cordelia withdrew as Robin snapped upright, eyes darting around the room, trying to find the presence that had disturbed him, unsure if friend or foe.

It was then Cordelia struck again from behind, entwining herself upon him like a snake, pinning his arms to his side with her own. With the grace and poise of even Olivia herself, she gently swung her torso down upon his lap, giving him a fleeting kiss upon the lips as she did so. Robin had yelped in surprise in her mouth, but instantly relaxed upon seeing Cordelia sprawl out in his lap, her silken hair spilling to the floor as she looked up to him apologetically. She had even jutted out that plump, glistening bottom lip of hers that begged for him to sweep her off her feet and just _kiss_ her.

All to distract him from being stood up in such an uncouth manner.

It certainly worked for the moment, as Robin bent over to greedily claim his wife's lips. The frustration certainly led to it being rougher- sloppier than those perfect kisses that _she_ would give, but he found delight in the contented sigh that she breathed into him.

When he finally came up for air, leaving a dazed and breathless Cordelia panting in his lap, he grinned wide.

"Apology accepted."

She wrapped her lithe arms around his neck, threatening to pull him down for another round, but seemed content in simply relaxing there, head dangling off his lap. That flash of guilt as she looked away for a split second was the tell that she was about to open her mouth to speak.

"I-"

Robin roughly kissed her one more time, letting his frustration at her sudden desire to make excuses be known without words. When he finally released her, he made sure to lift her upright with him. She still clung to him, but this time pulled more of herself into his lap.

"You're here now." He whispered, tightening his hold around her waist, "Did you eat?"

"N-no." Cordelia flushed as bright as her hair. It wasn't the first time she had neglected herself in such a fashion… but that particular habit she thought ended with the war.

"Good."

Puzzled, she still clung to Robin, even as he awkwardly groped below his desk for something. Even as her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could barely make out the shape of a small basket covered with a red cloth in the exact shade he blouse and skirt were cut from- her favorite color.

Once again, the pang of guilt pushed an excuse up her throat, ready to heave forth, and once again, her husband attended her. His gentle caress of her cheek brought her eyes back to him. Robin bounced his legs, a signal for Cordelia to stand, despite every fiber of her being demanded she stay firmly planted until Robin was warm once more.

Reluctantly though, she stood, taking a moment to straighten out her blouse and skirt. Even now, in the silence of a castle that had long since turned in for the night, she was conscientious of her appearance. The sigh escaped her quicker than she could catch it, earning herself another quick, stern but loving touch from Robin as he traced the crease of her brow that he teased would become permanent.

"Luckily it does not need to be warmed." Robin motioned for her to take up the chair across his desk as he hastily cleared space between them.

When the walls had been torn down, he cast wide the basket's cover, revealing an already diligently slice loaf of crisp bread, thick medallions of what smelled like smoked pork, small thin triangles of a white cheese, and a sweetly aromatic, chunked sauce. It looked so simple, but when compared to what they had eaten during the war- compared to what most of the peasantry ate, it was delicacy.

With an almost reverent way, Cordelia's husband assembled what was to be their now mid-night meal. She watched as he placed the cheese and pork upon the crisp before placing a small dollop of the sauce on top. He held it out to her as he blindly grabbed for something beneath the desk.

As Cordelia took the first bite, Robin had pulled forth a red wine- one of the ones from across the seas… from Rosanne. A belated wedding gift from Virion and Cherche, most certainly.

The flavors, the palette of the meal… it blended perfectly. Cordelia had no doubt that the wine would pair as well, somehow. All this thought put into a simple meal together was certainly not a surprise, given the meticulous nature of her husband. The man was a tactician, after all.

Quietly Cordelia mulled as she chewed, eyes never leaving her husband as he diligently went about making sure that she was attended to first.

The flawed, prideful man that he was… it was that selfless drive to help others that had brought the two of them together. It was that part of him that she so desperately needed to bring perspective to her actions… but it was what had tore at her soul every time he went about tasks by himself.

It always brought back memories of the day that Grima was defeated.

The day that Robin had made his decision… In that fleeting glimpse of him, before they had sailed off to the final battle, she already knew what was to happen- a task that he would not- _could not_ let anyone else bear for him.

And Cordelia was sure that she would never see her husband again.

That was just who he was-

Who they _both_ were.

At that time… she knew- she understood him, stood by his decision. For the peace of the world, the two of them would have made any sacrifice.

But it was the days after, when peace was secured... that was when the pain came. There was naught much Morgan or Severa could do to comfort their mother. Not a word from Sumia or Chrom could pull her mind from it. For seven days she had locked herself away, turning back every member of the Shepherds, even her daughters.

To call that time the lowest point in her life was to be selling it short.

She remembered Robin's words to her from back then; back when she had suffered this pain the first time-

"They sacrificed themselves because they loved you."

And she raged against it. Why did people have to sacrifice themselves for-

"Cordelia?" Robin's voice was that same tone of concern that she had grown so used to in the past. Instinctively it made her suddenly self-aware.

"Nothing." She wiped the tear that had welled in the corner of her eye away, "It was nothing, dear. Just a bad memory."

Those days after… she did not speak of, not even to Robin. There was an instinctive, irrational fear that he would balk at her weakness, despite being the one man that embraced her for that self-same weakness. As far as her husband knew, she had mourned as she was expected to, before returning to her duties as knight captain.

In that week she had turned her quarters into a war-torn hellscape. She had fallen to the deepest pits of despair in the most shameful of ways. She had almost betrayed the first promise she had made to Robin- from before their vows.

"Bad memories…" Robin tilted his head, eyes alight with curiosity, but he did not press the issue. Quietly he reached across the desk, taking Cordelia's war-weary, calloused hands unto his own. He could tell that she was trying so hard to pull herself out of _something_ \- to enjoy this moment despite this bad memory impeding her.

"You came out stronger in the end, though?"

"I did." Cordelia smiled from the bottom of her heart, "It also gave me a new perspective, much like before." She laid her other hand over Robin's, squeezing it gently, "Which is why every day I have with you is a blessing from Naga herself."

It was a sickenly sweet line, certainly, but it was the truth in the greatest sense. For Naga to have granted Robin a second chance for his sacrifice was nothing short of a miracle. Cordelia had hardened her heart, despite Chrom and Lissa's assurances that their friend was out there in the world somewhere. Despite the zeal of the search parties sent out in the Halidom and in the continents beyond for the savior of the world, Cordelia herself held little hope.

When Cordelia had emerged from her quarters on that seventh day of grief, she had pushed forward with her duties with such fervor that she seemed like a woman possessed by Naga herself. What else was she to do? Fall back into that shameful place, or continue her husband's memory and legacy?

Overcome by a wave of guilt, Cordelia pulled herself over the desk towards Robin, taking the man by surprise. Ever so gently, she brushed aside those unkempt raven bangs and pressed her forehead against his.

"For you are the man I pledge my life. You are the man who pulled me from my waking-dream of a life and showed me true happiness. The man who inspires me to enjoy a life awake and to its fullest." There was not a day that had gone by that Cordelia had not recalled her wedding vow, even in those dark days.

"For you are the woman I pledge my life. You are the woman who inspired me to be a greater man than who I was. The woman who inspires me to make every day better than the last." Robin quietly recited his own, though he added one more line that was not spoken on their wedding day.

"You are the one who showed me that there are things that one must do to protect the ones they love with such passion."

He knew of her pain greater than anyone else. The guilt that hid beneath the fiery and passionate exterior of Cordelia could never be fully smothered. It was a scar that would never go away, but one that she had grown to live with. Every mention of those memories was like scratching at it, but to let her simply hide it as if nothing had happened was to do a disservice to a woman as Cordelia, especially in regards to how much she had grown.

Despite that, Robin had made a selfish decision. It was the right decision in _both_ of their minds, but still…

Cordelia had shied away slightly, averting her eyes from the pain. It was to be expected, it was a large scar, after all, and even his return had not healed it completely. Robin quietly awaited her to compose herself on her own, still gently holding her hand even as the distance between their faces grew. When Cordelia glanced back to him, the strength in her eyes had returned.

"Did you know you were going to be brought back?"

"No, but…" Robin hesitated upon seeing the face of his beloved twist once again, though he was compelled to explain himself, "I felt that I would see you and our girls again. Not necessarily in this life but…"

He struggled with the words. Listening to others, helping them formulate words was his forte. When it came to matters of _his_ heart it was certainly far more… difficult. Robin could feel his face contorting with frown after frown as he tried to find the most tactful choice in words.

"No more sacrifices." His wife held a stern finger to his nose, making him freeze. There was a growl in her tone that no man, no matter how brave they were, would _dare_ question, "I do not wish to draw the ire of Naga, but if you were to leave us in such a manner again, I would claw you from the gates of the afterlife myself."

There was that fire- that drive that had rekindled in the ashes of Cordelia's despair and grief.

"I would not doubt such a feat from a woman as great as you, my love." Robin had joked, but upon seeing such a frightful glower from Cordelia he instantly began trying to think of a way to make a tactical retreat from the blunder his mouth had placed him in.

"Honeyed words will only get you so far, _dear_." Her ire was certainly well deserved, and the threat in her glare was not to be taken lightly. Such a pleasant evening had grown so sour, all because of his choice in words. There was only one thing he could do to quell his wife's growing fire.

"I swear upon our most sacred of vows," Robin held up his wedding band, letting it shine in the dull moonlight, "I will never place anyone or anything else above you or our family ever again."

In that moment, Cordelia realized she had been holding her breath. In her sudden fit of anger... her sudden burst of jealousy, she had made her husband swear upon their vows in the most unequal of ways.

She placed her hand against his, her wedding band tapping gently against its partner.

"I swear upon our most sacred of vows that I will _never_ place anyone or anything else above you or our family _ever_ again." Cordelia spoke breathlessly, flushing in embarrassment at her sudden realization at everything that had transpired.

 _Why_ it had transpired in the first place.

No doubt Robin believed it was his fault that such an outburst occured... and that this cold silence permeated the rift between them as a result. His words had certainly touched too close to the scarred nerves… but it was still Cordelia's fault that they were having such a conversation.

If she had simply arrived when she said she was going to, they could have had the whole evening together to simply bask in each other's company like they both so deeply desired. She wanted nothing more in the whole of the world than to simply embrace him, to have him coddle her in a way most unbefitting their stature, to simply be with one-another in the normalcy that peace brought.

"No more late nights without each-other." She promised him, still very much a tempest of emotions, though none came to the surface more often than love. So much of her pride had been placed on perfection certainly… but perhaps… perhaps it was time to shift just what she wished to be perfect at.

Quietly Robin rolled up the parchment he was working on, throwing it carelessly onto the pile with the others. He snapped the adjacent tome shut, pushing it aside as one would some undesired nuisance.

"No more wasting away the time that we can have together." He agreed, satisfied at the result of all this turmoil had finally landed upon. As he pulled himself from his desk with a groan, his joints betrayed just how long he had been affixed to that accursed stool. The overworked tactician rounded the desk, arm held out to his lady, to which Cordelia gratefully took up.

"The greatest duo in all the Shepherds certainly must have earned themselves at least a modicum of reprieve in their constant duties to the kingdom." Robin's posture was rigid, a mockery of overly stiff and regal nobility that was so often demanded of them in the House of Nobles. Cordelia giggled softly at the juxtaposition of such a disheveled, exhausted man putting on airs of the court. She was not one for all of the pomp and ostentatiousness that their new titles demanded, either.

"Yes, most certainly their lord would overlook a small delay in their duties now and again." Cordelia bid farewell to the tension that she had so willingly clung to earlier. With one hand, she straightened Robin's off-center collar in that way she so adored to do. In the other, she made a grab for the bottle of wine that sat upon the desk, patiently awaiting its enjoyment by the couple.

"Care to retire then, dear?"

"Most certainly. Perhaps we should leave a note to the castle staff about our late start in the morrow?"

"It is as if you read my mind, love."

Quiet as to not disturb the other inhabitant of the castle, the couple made for their chambers, speaking softly of their peaceful days, monotony and all, for even the most boring of days held the simple warmth of being together again at the end of it.


End file.
